


Late Night Visitor

by SunshineRomance



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Jun POV, JunHao - Freeform, M/M, Mentioned Kim Mingyu, Oneshot, POV First Person, Storms, basically some ministories rolled into one, jun takes care of hao, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 21:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineRomance/pseuds/SunshineRomance
Summary: Minghao has a bad dream and looks to Jun for comfort.





	Late Night Visitor

I was laying under the blankets, scrolling through the endless posts I hadn’t been able to catch up on when I heard a gentle knock. It was almost nervous sounding, like the person wasn’t sure if they wanted to commit to it. I threw my blankets to the side and got up, slightly annoyed at the late night visitor. I slowly creaked the door open, finding a timid Minghao on the other side. He didn’t even say anything, just pushed his way into my room, sitting down on my bed as if it were his. 

“Um… Hao? Is something wrong? It’s really late…”

Minghao looked up at me, meeting my eyes with his own wet, red ones. He looked as if he had been crying for a while now. He lowered his gaze as soon as we made eye contact and I shut the door, quickly sitting next to him and putting my arm around him. I could hear his quiet sniffles, the way his breathing was slightly erratic, and this pounding beat that I soon realized was my own heart ringing in my ears. A single tear slipped out from the corner of his eye and I wiped it away carefully with my thumb.

“Jun…” his voice was shaky and small, a sob coming up from his throat and preventing him from continuing his sentence. My heart began to ache, seeing Minghao like this was unbearable. We had always been together through thick and thin, cheering for each other when we felt like we were alone. I rubbed his back, pulling him closer to me. He started to cry on my shoulder, his sobs shaking his body as I rubbed his back and wiped his tears.

“What’s wrong Minghao?” I said it gently, the worry seeping into my voice as Minghao took deep breaths, swallowing as much air as he could. He slowly tried to compose himself, pulling away from my shoulder but hanging on to the edge of my sleeve, busying himself with a loose thread as he got ready to speak.

“I, I-” He swallowed, and I reached over to hand him a bottle of water that was sitting on my bedside table. He took a long drink and opened his mouth to speak again. “I had a… A nightmare.” My heart softened at those words, stroking his pretty black hair, pushing it out of his face. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” It must have been a pretty bad dream if he came to me crying about it. It reminded me of the days where he would cry in my arms, tired and frustrated, the lack of sleep from practicing making him irritated, his Korean not yet good enough to understand everything that was going on. At night, when all the members had already fallen asleep, I would hear quiet crying, the familiar hitched breathing of a small, confused boy.

I would crawl over to him and he would hold his breath, trying to suck his tears back up and pretend he was sleeping. I’d shake him a little so he couldn’t fake it, making him sit up and he would curl up against me saying “I’m so tired, I’m just so tired…” in Mandarin, somehow knowing it was me even in the pitch blackness of the shared bedroom. I would stroke his hair until he was asleep, the tears stopped and his breathing became calm and even, and suddenly I was alone in a room full of people, my job done. 

Minghao’s shaky voice brought me back from my nostalgia, my fingers still tangled in his hair, his hand still gripping my sleeve. 

“In- In my dream…” He brought his free hand up to his face, scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I was all alone. I was in the training hall, the old one, but no one was there and the lights were off. Just like… just like that one time.” I knew exactly what he meant and I gripped his shoulder firmer to show that he didn’t have to explain. The memory flooded back to me, another late night spent at the studio. Minghao had stayed behind practicing, hoping to nail the choreography. I’m still amazed at his dedication, his will to work hard and to keep going. I remember leaving my phone behind and returning both to check on Minghao and to pick it up.

Actually, that day there had been a nasty storm and the power had gone out as I left the dorms. The wind was strong, howling loudly and making the trees sway violently, thunder growling and lightning flashing, the storm was particularly strong that day.

I hurried into the building, completely soaked through despite my umbrella, my leather jacket not doing much to stop the biting wind that whipped my hair into my face. The building was dark, spare the few blinding strikes of lightning, and I wondered if Minghao was really still here, the lack of light and music confusing until I remembered the blackout. I pushed the door to the dance room open, hoping to find my phone, but instead I found a boy, curled up with his back against the mirror, hands pressed firmly against his ears, eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t seem to notice me come in, and he was startled by my sudden appearance at his side, kneeling next to him, putting my hand on his knee tentatively. He grabbed my hoodie’s sleeve which had been poking out of my leather jacket, probably looking for something warm to cling to. He was shaking, and he looked up at me with soft doe eyes. 

“I was waiting for you,” He whispered, not really talking to anyone in particular, as the sky growled and he held onto me tighter. I had forgotten his fear of storms, although he was a fan of rain, the lightning and the thunder were frightening, especially alone in a blackout, surrounded by empty space and blackness. I took off my jacket and put it around his shoulders and hugged him gently. He seemed to relax, and he melted into my chest, probably hearing my quick heartbeat. With a too-bright flicker of lights the blackout was over and Minghao pulled away slowly. He stood up and I finally found my phone, the storm had eased up a little, and Minghao felt much less tense than he had been when I found him. 

Minghao pulled too hard at the string and it snapped, leaving him with a little red piece of thread in his hands as he continued to talk about his dream. 

“I kept looking for the other members, but I couldn’t find anyone. I kept calling out their names but no one was answering,” Minghao took another sip of my water. “So I went back to the dorms but all the doors were locked. I could hear your voice, you were laughing, but when I got the door to open it was empty. I was just… so scared. I thought everyone had abandoned me.” 

I pulled him into a tight hug, feeling his rapid heart hidden under his shirt. “We would never do that, Hao. I wouldn’t let them.” I could feel my own eyes watering, my heart hurting with empathy. Minghao deserved to be happy, to live a life without insecurities. 

“Would you… really?” Even if his face was buried in my shoulder, I could feel his smile, his eyes turning into thin little crescents, the corners of his mouth lifting a little as the tears continued to pour down his face, his time with warmth. 

As Minghao grew older, he stopped crying late at night, and when the room arrangements changed and I wasn’t in the same room as Minghao anymore, he only came into my room once more. 

It was the day he found out that his family pet had died, a brown poodle with pretty little ringlets in its fur. His parents had gotten it for his 10th birthday, and he had loved it with all his heart. That day we were preparing for a concert that would take place in a week, and as I was about to pass out from exhaustion, the last one to get to bed out of my roommates, I heard the gentle click of the door opening, and the soft steps of socked feet coming in. It was Minghao of course, looking so extremely fragile that even saying his name might shatter him into thousands of little pieces. He shook me out of my drowsy stupor, insistent but gentle, pulling me into the reality that Minghao was in my room at 3 am, tears running down his cheeks, looking down at my blankets as if begging to be let in. I sat up and lifted my covers to offer him a spot next to me. He crawled in and cried into my sheets, quietly whimpering and just letting the tears flow as I ran my hand up and down his back, hoping to, if nothing else, warm him up a little and not let him feel so alone. He held onto my wrist, mindlessly examining it and running his slender fingers over my veins and bones, drawing random lines with his finger, looking for something to distract himself from the pain. 

I pulled him closer, letting him rest in my arms, never asking any questions, just giving him the comfort he needed right then, no need for explanations or reasons. I remember falling asleep like that, a quiet Minghao wrapped in my embrace, the tears stopped falling and his muscles let go. The next morning I woke up to an empty bed however, Minghao cooking breakfast in the kitchen with Mingyu, looking his same self, as if I had imagined the whole thing. I blamed it on the lack of sleep we were all getting, until Minghao pulled me aside while we were taking a short rest and thanked me, his cheeks gently dusted with red, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t from all the dance practice we had been doing.

Minghao got older, and with the public life of an idol, he learned to control his emotions, even though I’m sure that’s not very psychologically healthy for anyone. He stopped showing up in my room, and I no longer heard the quiet tears of a tired and confused younger brother. So naturally, I was very surprised to see Minghao in my room again tonight. 

“Thanks,” Minghao curled up on my bed, pulling my blankets onto himself, resting his head on my thigh. “Thanks for all those nights when you comforted me. And tonight as well.” I felt my heart swell a little. Although those nights must have been painful for him, I couldn’t help but feel the heartwarming sensation of helping him out of those rough patches. I tangled my fingers in his soft hair once more.

“You know, you don’t have to be crying to come into my room.” All I got in response was a soft ‘Mm’ as I could tell he was drifting off to sleep. I struggled a bit to get him to lay his head on my pillow instead of my leg, and then I dropped off to sleep next to him, the room warm and the bed soft.

**Author's Note:**

> That "I was waiting for you" is totally a reference to Hao's song Night and Rain btw ^^


End file.
